A Dead Girl

Lucy’s dress fluttered in the wind, as she held her arms tightly around her chest. The pale faced pastor droned about her dead best friend. She was barely listening though, for she was entirely too focused on a figure leaning against a tree on the other side of the cemetery. Poor Lucy did not have her glasses on, so she could not quite tell who it was.

John hated the smell of lemons. It made his nose cringe and twist in a very unflattering way. Incidentally, the aunt of John’s dead girlfriend was wearing an obnoxious amount of lemon perfume. John kept thinking to himself, “Who the hell wears lemon perfume?” By now, he had vastly lost track of the sermon and he felt guilty. John wanted to feel bad about his sweetheart's death. But his mind kept wandering to much more interesting issues, such as how attractive Lucy looked in her black dress. Turning around, for no particular reason, John noticed a young man leaning against a tree. John immediately recognized him.

Rose noticed the figure first, because she was always the observant type. The person Rose noticed filled her mind with blind hatred. Why wouldn’t it? Everyone disliked this person and Rose was no exception. She wanted this person to be destroyed, she wanted to slowly tear him up, bit by bit, until he was no more. The dead girl’s oldest friend wanted revenge.

Black did not suit Marissa. It did not at all. People would say that black made everyone look good. It did not. Marissa still looked like a cow. Which very much suited her female dog behavior. Marissa was not even sure why she was there, the dead girl laying in that trunk was not her friend, and never would be. Obviously. Marissa yearned to hug the figure against the tree, but she knew she could not. Marissa grimaced at her black dress.

Lily Esther watched her daughter grow up. She was there from the potty training, to the first boyfriend. Lily Esther built her daughter, she made her what she was. She felt bitter, resentful even towards the dead girl. “Who was she to die so carelessly?” she thought. Lily Esther hated her daughter. She wanted to spit on the coffin and leave this Godforsaken funeral service. Lily Esther did not even notice the boy leaning against the tree.

Tom was fantasying about food and a new wife. The pastor’s speech had long since gotten dull (which everyone agreed on) so the dead girl’s father found himself day dreaming. Only one thing caught his eye the whole service, which was that of an interesting looking boy standing by the trees, who appeared to be day dreaming also. Tom smiled to himself.

Everyone in this funeral had something to prove. The deceased did not matter, only their superficial problems did. Antoinette was gone and therefore did not mean anything to them. They probably couldn‘t even bear to think her beautiful name. The figure leaning against the tree could and did. He would repeat it in his mind a thousand times over. He would live in that name for as long as his heart was beating. The boy, watching the funeral, whom everyone seemed so fascinated with, would never forget Antoinette. More so, he would never forget what he did to her.

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